


Heaven in Hell

by loveyou-x3000 (Severa)



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: AU, F/M, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Platonic Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Romance, Some Plot, alternative universe, i wonder who inspired this fic, possible hints of a future OT3 if you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26872057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severa/pseuds/loveyou-x3000
Summary: Early one spring morning, when the skies were still filled with birdsong and the dew had yet to drop from the flowers that filled her mother’s gardens, Izayoi stepped out of her bedroom with her maidservants, finally dressed for the day, and nearly collided into her husband’s armor.Before she could so much as greet him - or panic, because he never showed his face during sunlight hours, never let her father know that he did, in fact, have an interest in the little bride he’d been gifted so many years ago - the Inu no Taisho caught her face in his hands, tilted her chin up, and ripped out her heart with a few ominous words.“You’re in danger,” he said, turning her world on its axis. “We’re leaving.”
Relationships: Inu no Taishou/Izayoi, Izayoi & Sesshoumaru's Mother
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	Heaven in Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I think it's pretty clear who inspired this fic based on the title, but if you didn't know, go check out [@heavenin--hell](https://heavenin--hell.tumblr.com), the Captain of the InuParents Ship. I promised her I would write this as a companion piece to [her artwork here](https://heavenin--hell.tumblr.com/post/631198991620636673/domination-inuparents-inu-no-taisho-izayoi) (semi-NSFW), so... yeah, here we are.
> 
> Note: This is an AU that ignores the entirety of the story presented in _Swords of an Honorable Ruler_ , so don't go looking for burning mansions or Takemaru or So'unga anywhere in this fic.

Early one spring morning, when the skies were still filled with birdsong and the dew had yet to drop from the flowers that filled her mother’s gardens, Izayoi stepped out of her bedroom with her maidservants, finally dressed for the day, and nearly collided into her husband’s armor.

Before she could so much as greet him - or panic, because he never showed his face during sunlight hours, never let her father know that he did, in fact, have an interest in the little bride he’d been gifted so many years ago - the Inu no Taisho caught her face in his hands, tilted her chin up, and ripped out her heart with a few ominous words.

“You’re in danger,” he said, turning her world on its axis. “We’re leaving.”

* * *

That had been a year ago.

Summer, autumn, and winter had rolled forward into a new spring, and now the gardens she enjoyed weren’t her mother’s. The blossoming trees and foreign flowers belonged to the mistress of her new home– Tsukiko, her husband’s first wife and mate, the mother of his son, and the ruler of the skies. 

Tsukiko’s gardens were filled with plants and life that Izayoi had never once seen in the wilds, and she was glad for it, because despite the fact that she felt like she was living inside a fairy tale - wed to a demon, kept safe by another, and living in a grand castle that floated in the clouds - she had discovered that fairy tales were incredibly lonely. At least now, with spring in full bloom, she could keep her mind busy. There was plenty to learn, plenty to see. Her curiosities wanted to understand all the strangely colored critters and beautiful blossoms that smelled like things she’d never known, if only to keep herself from slipping into sadness. 

Tsukiko, for her part, was kind enough to understand.

Izayoi’s life in her home was a rather purposeless one. Toga came and stayed as often as he could, but Ryukotsusei was growing wild and destructive, gaining more power by the day and creating threats that couldn’t be ignored. And if it wasn’t the dragon, it was another threat: spotted leopards from the continent, human armies, or a demon with one foot in the netherworld. It kept him away, leaving his little human wife in her care, where she was kept hidden away in the private residences. She couldn’t roam the castle grounds freely, if at all. Izayoi was mortal and therefore fragile, and there were those who would see her dispatched to her next life. Destroying her would mean freeing the Inu no Taisho of his only weakness; saving him or defeating him, as it were, and many would chance that risk. Especially if it garnered them Sesshomaru’s favor.

If he didn’t try to kill her first.

Yes, Izayoi’s status had been stigmatized in the human world, but not to such a dangerous extent. She’d had her family, her freedoms, and at the end of the day, she’d likely had more of her husband, too. Tsukiko couldn’t help but pity her. Here she had only the hollow comforts of opulence, the distractions found in art and learning, and the occasional company that she could provide. It was a gilded cage at best, a prison at worst, and this little bird wasn’t one who enjoyed such trappings.

Today they sat together and enjoyed tea on the patio that overlooked the gardens, Tsukiko regaling her with the utterly menial gossip of her demon court. Izayoi was often lost in the subtleties of such talk, unable to navigate the stories easily, but she was growing better at understanding the players and their respective lives. In the beginning, almost a year ago, she’d learned that her husband wasn’t the lord she’d assumed him to be; he was a general, a warrior, and the only importance in that was that he was the strongest. He might say the lands and the forests were his because he protected them, but Izayoi understood now that they were Tsukiko’s– only through her did he have any claim. 

That didn’t discredit his power or influence, however; he was still terrifying, still impossible, and demons and humans alike feared him. He was the wielder of Tessaiga - the shining silver fang that bled demons dry, forged to protect human life and devastate a hundred men in the same swing - and the world lay subjected under its might, just waiting to be destroyed in a cutting burst of light.

That he and Tsukiko had met and combined their power only expanded their terrible influence, and one day, Izayoi was quite sure their son would grow to bring about the end of everything or save them all from their demise.

“Izayoi?”

She blinked, startled out of her thoughts. Tsukiko was looking at her over the edge of a gold-leaf fan, an eyebrow arched expectantly. Perfect and beautiful as she always was, Izayoi found herself flustered immediately, flushing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I–” she stumbled over her tongue a little, not wanting to seem as though she’d been bored. Tsukiko just smiled, red lips pulled into a thin line.

“Sleeping poorly, again?” she wondered, idly fanning herself and looking out over the gardens. Pink blossoms drifted from the trees, rustled by the wind. 

Suddenly embarrassed, Izayoi looked down at her lap, over the fine embroidery and expensive silks she’d been provided with. She worried with her fingers, fidgeting beneath her many sleeves. There was no hiding anything from demons.

“A little, maybe.” she admitted softly. She didn’t want to humiliate herself further, so she said nothing more, clenching her fists on her knees.

“...He’ll return soon,” Tsukiko said eventually, airily, as if commenting on the weather. “I can have sleeping potions made for you, if you’d like.”

“Thank you, Tsukiko-sama, but that’s not necessary.” She smiled a little, humorless, shaking her head. Her thoughts wandered and she lifted her gaze, taking her cup back in hand. “I only wish he would stay longer when he does return, is all.”

“Ah.”

“It’s just…” Izayoi sipped her tea, trying to collect her thoughts. “I just wish…”

Unable to finish, the demoness eventually prompted her. “What do you wish?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed mightily, gesturing helplessly. “That I could seal him, or something. Keep him somewhere longer than a day.”

It was a rather vulnerable thing to say, but they had long since passed the need for maintaining appearances. As her only confidant, they had spoken of many things over the past year, which Tsukiko seemed quite happy to do. She had a distinct interest in her mate’s human wife, scholarly in nature, like she was something worth studying– something new and unfounded. It had taken a while to get used to the attention, but now she didn’t mind it.

Tsukiko hummed thoughtfully, something unusually playful about the sound.

“He’d probably enjoy that.”

It took a moment for Izayoi to understand her meaning, and then heat flared and her cheeks turned an impressive shade of pink, hands jolting so violently she nearly spilled her tea. 

“I–” she blabbered, flustered, setting her cup on the table. “I didn’t mean– Oh!” Whining in embarrassment, she covered her face with her hands, hiding how the blush was creeping down her neck. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

Tsukiko laughed softly behind her fan, politely hiding her amusement.

“Couldn’t you?” she wondered, letting Izayoi fume in her humiliation for a moment. “He deserves the shock, the way he’s been neglecting you.”

“He’s not…”

At the look she was being pinned with, Izayoi’s weak protests died on her tongue. She could advocate for her husband as often she liked, but Tsukiko knew him better and her opinions weren’t easily swayed. They had known each other for _centuries._

“...he’s just trying to protect me,” she tried weakly, and Tsukiko snorted.

“Perhaps.”

* * *

When Izayoi returned to her rooms later that night, there was a parcel laid on top of her bedding, bearing a small note painted with an indigo crescent moon. 

She picked up the parchment carefully and unfolded it, examined Tsukiko’s elegant handwriting, and blushed twenty different shades of red all at once.

* * *

Toga had been gone a month when he finally returned.

Spring had turned to summer and Izayoi was desperately missing him when he finally flew through the skies above the castle, appearing suddenly in his true form against the white clouds. She was sitting in the gardens when it happened, lounging in the shade of a tree and reading a scroll on demon histories when the roar of his yoki washed over her, familiar and warm. She watched in awe as he arched through the sky, silver and impossible and eternal, a great dog shining against the afternoon sun.

_Dearest._

He was finally home. _Finally._ She was angry and relieved all at once, that hollow part of her heart finally easing with the sight of him. He’d never been away this long.

But, of course, he landed in a part of the castle that she couldn’t reach, and instead of rushing into his arms, all she wanted to do was strangle him.

* * *

When she finally did see him, the sun had set and she had just cleaned herself before bed, slipping down thr halls and back into her rooms wearing only her sleeping robes. 

He was sitting at the low table on the far side of the room, the outer shoji that looked out onto a small garden pushed wide open. His claws curled loosely around a saucer of sake as he looked out into the summer night, currently seated with his back to her. He had divested himself of all his adornments; his armor was put away on its half-mannequin against the wall, opposite their bedding where he’d laid his pelt down, and Tessaiga stood leaning against the spiked pauldrons of his armor. His hair was still tied up, so she could see the subtle twitch of his ear as she entered, even though he didn’t turn to see her.

She thought about strangling him with his perfect hair again, but a louder part of her mind was crying out for her to go sit in his lap and wrap her arms around his neck, to fall into him so she wouldn’t be alone anymore.

Tsukiko’s comment about his neglect was haunting, though, enough to pull her out of the urge.

“Husband,” she greeted instead, sliding the door shut behind her with a soft _click_ and watching how his shoulders tensed in alarm.

Toga turned his head back, twisting over his shoulder just a fraction as he looked at her, trying to gauge just exactly how much trouble he was in.

 _A lot,_ she answered for him, even though he couldn’t hear it.

“I can’t stay long,” he tried carefully, like that would somehow convince her not to be angry with him.

It would not.

_Idiot._

She didn’t respond, frustrated beyond belief. Instead, knowing she’d only regret it if she started an argument - because, in the end, she knew in her heart that he didn’t _want_ to go, that he’d stay with her if he could - she padded over to their bed, sliding down beneath the blanket and pinning her head against her pillow.

What was the point of seeing him if he would only be gone before daybreak? Why pause her misery only to resume it in the morning? He was a ridiculous, insufferable, melodramatic moron. How could he expect to come back home and not find her angry? It had been a whole _month._

It took a while, but soon he closed the shoji and was there with her, slipping under the blankets and moving in behind, trying to wind his arms around her. She fought him off stubbornly, rolling over to face him with a strong flick of her hair. 

The golden eyes that stared back at her were apologetic.

“I’d stay if I could,” he promised, reaching out to touch her face. She pushed his hand away.

“Why can’t you?” she demanded. “It’s been a month, Toga.”

“I know.” He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down on her. His hair, still tied up on his head, spilled down long over one shoulder. “I finally have a lead on Shishinki. That meido of his…” He was thoughtful, if not a little greedy, “It might give me the edge I need over Ryukotsusei.”

She huffed, shaking her head and rolling sharply onto her back, looking at the ceiling. The wargames were more than tedious and she was tired of them.

“Then why come back at all? Go find him. Be done with it.” 

“Because,” he said softly, reaching out hesitantly and resting his claws on her arm. Her heart skipped a beat. “I missed you.” 

Biting the inside of her cheek, she told herself not to fall for it. Maybe he had missed her, but he probably - _no, definitely_ \- wanted something more, and she wasn’t sure if he deserved it tonight. 

_Though,_ a prickling voice suggested, lingering somewhere in the back of her mind, sparking with want that betrayed her more logical thoughts. She remembered the seal Tsukiko had given her, currently hiding innocently in the depths of her sleeve. 

Maybe she was mad at him, but she couldn’t deny how much she’d missed him. Before he’d come to her tonight, she’d stuffed the scandalous gift in her sleeve on a whim, just in case she somehow found the courage to use it.

She turned her head and pinned him with a look, trying to maintain her anger. It was working poorly though, because he was dragging his claws across the tender flesh of her arm, sending small shockwaves through the fabric, shooting all the way down to her toes. 

_Gods_ , she was touch-starved.

Izayoi sighed and pulled her arm away so she could sit up, tossing her hair over her shoulder. He watched her all the while, cringing slightly when she pulled away, but quickly entranced by her movements. Still, he seemed a little hesitant, clearly unsure if he’d won her over yet. 

He hadn’t, but that didn’t matter.

She scooted closer to him and he sat up, following her with his eyes as she came next to him, their bodies at a square angle with her rear beside his hip. She had to twist to face him, knees bent slightly alongside her as she shifted her weight. Staring up at him, she batted his hands away when he tried to pull her up in his lap. Immediately, his face fell into a frown.

“Izayoi.”

“Don’t touch me.” she said, crossing her arms to hide how her hand slipped into her sleeve. When he tried again, she glared at him. His hands paused mid-air, cringing back. “I’m serious.”

When he opened his mouth to complain, she picked herself up, putting herself in his lap without assistance. His jaw clicked shut. After a long moment of staring at her - elevated where she sat on him, they were now eye-level - his brow creased in a little, showing his confusion.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

She always wanted him to touch her. Even just in small, innocent ways; holding her hand, brushing his fingers on her back, or embracing her at the fireside. Not being touched was not her way.

“No,” she said. She watched the muscles in his neck work to swallow. “Put your hands away.”

“Away?”

“Away,” she said again and he hummed, hesitantly curious, doing everything of his own accord. Falling headlong into her trap.

“Like this?” 

He folded his arms behind his back, hands curled around each opposite forearm inside his sleeves, and raised an eyebrow at her. 

Izayoi shrugged, slipped one arm around him in an embrace, and rested her other hand on his chest. He was saying something and it sounded like a mocking tease, but she couldn’t hear him over the pounding in her ears as her heart picked up its pace, nervous and exhilarated and terrified all at once.

The hand fisted between his shoulder blades opened to drop a small charm onto the shelf of his arms, and then she felt his entire body go still underneath her.

What she couldn’t see - what she couldn’t feel - was the charm exploding on contact with his yoki, unfolding and unwinding itself into short lengths of rope that looped around his arms, binding him, locking his powers away under a barrier of another demon’s making. 

He tugged against the cords once, twice, and then a third time. They didn’t budge. He tried a fourth time - actually tried - and the barrier bit back against the surge of yoki he sent after it, effectively silencing him.

“...Izayoi?”

He stared up at his wife as her hand drifted away from his back to rest on his chin, her knuckles brushing against the stripe on his cheek. She smiled as he stared, confused, an unfamiliar sensation of helplessness festering in his chest.

“Yes?”

“Why can’t I move my hands?”

When she didn’t answer, she found herself deposited roughly on the futon as he bucked and tipped her off his lap, throwing his weight forward so he could stand on his feet. She watched him stand and try and twist his head around over his shoulders, spinning slightly in an attempt to get a look at what she’d done. The ends of his hair whipped around his face.

It reminded her distinctly of a dog chasing his tail and she bit down her lip, pressing her palm over her mouth to stop from laughing. 

“Izayoi.”

Suddenly the humor was gone.

She stared up at him from where she’d been left on the ground, sleeping robes slightly askew, faced with her husband’s frustrated glare. He was on edge and she almost felt bad, knowing that what she’d done wasn’t a kind thing to do. But he hadn’t been kind to her lately, either, so.

Letting her hand fall away from her mouth, she stood up and went to him, softly reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. He watched her the whole time, a slight lean in his posture, predatory in nature as he glared down at her from underneath his bangs. He wasn’t used to being at a disadvantage.

“Why the hell did you seal me?”

There was a dangerous rumble in his chest, but he was harmless and they both knew it, seal notwithstanding. He would never hurt her. No matter how upset he was, she was always safe.

“I could let you go,” she said, resting her arms on his shoulders and reaching up into his hair, slowly undoing the cord that kept it pulled back. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d untied his hair. Maybe she never had. It felt strangely intimate, her fingers sliding through the silken strands when it finally unleashed and spilled down his back, a few stray locks falling forward over his shoulders. 

“Could,” he repeated sharply, twisting his arms in a futile effort to break free.

“I will,” she corrected, catching his jaw in one hand, “if you tell me to.” The other hand dipped lower, slipping underneath the collar of his kimono, and he froze beneath her touch. “Tell me to stop.”

How many times had he said that to her?

Her heart quickened and she pressed her fingers across his chest, splayed her hand flat underneath the reinforced edges of his kimono, a gentle pressure against the hard ridges of his collarbone. She leaned up and forward to kiss his pulse, feeling the muscles in his neck constrict underneath her lips.

“Why?” he demanded, a hot gust of breath against her hair. He still sounded upset, but his head was tipping back as he continued to writhe against the seal.

“Why what?” She forced his kimono open without bothering with his obi, pushing the fabric on one shoulder over until it fell down his arm, catching in the bound crook of his elbow. Another kiss to the hollow of his throat and she’d freed his other shoulder of fabric as well, baring his chest to her.

“Why did you seal me?”

His anger was receding rapidly, but she could tell he was still on edge, still tense and flustered from being taken so easily off guard. In truth, she didn’t want him to be angry with her and she didn’t want to stay mad at him. She couldn’t deny the smug satisfaction of knowing that he was living at least a fraction of the helplessness she’d been consumed by the past year, but… he was _finally_ home and if she could really only have him for a short period of time, she wanted to make the most of it. 

“I don’t want you to leave in the morning,” she admitted softly, tipping her chin up to look at his face, pressing herself up against him. He stared down at her, eyes half lidded, emotions lost somewhere between frustration and confusion, trying for understanding. “I’m tired of waking up alone, husband, and if I have to seal you to keep you close…” She reached up to brush his hair back over one ear, skating her fingertips across his marking as she did so. His eyelids fluttered. “I will.”

“Hm.” The tension finally eased out of his shoulders and he leaned forward, butting her forehead with his, tangling their bangs. “...You don’t need to seal me to get me to stay past dawn, wife.”

“I don’t know about that,” she whispered, trailing her fingers behind the shell of his ear.

"Let me out and I’ll prove it to you,” he drawled, dipping forward and to the side to press his lips against her ear, arched low. 

She smiled, pulling aside, wrapping her arms around his neck and hanging there, gazing up at him, falling in love with her helpless daiyokai all over again.

“Do you really want me to?” she whispered, holding herself so her kimono hung open, barely concealing the soft skin within. Toga’s eyes flickered down and she watched as he licked his lips, thoughtless. “Tell me to stop.”

He didn’t.

* * *

She had never seen him like this. 

They were still standing in the middle of the room, a step off the bedding, his kimono hanging open and loose off his elbows, his hakama kicked aside on the ground. Her sleeping robes were mostly off as well, hanging around her forearms, leaving her bare. They were exposed to one another, but hadn’t gone much farther than that; for a while now, all Izayoi had done was trail her fingers over his body, exploring every groove and tracing every muscle, taking her lonely vengeance out on him by making him wait.

He had never trembled like this, before.

Toga’s cheek was pressed against her head, his weight leaning in hard as her fingers trailed down, skating over the sensitive skin of his chest. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel his lips parted against her hair and the short pant of his breath, feeling it skitter down across her bangs. He kept twisting against his restraints, but had never once asked her to take them off since she’d begun, constantly testing his limits and she explored him freely.

“I’ll kill her,” he was groaning, and Izayoi laughed, swirling her finger over one of his nipples and watching his body constrict, reacting to the touch. He groaned again, kissing helplessly against her scalp. “Damn woman.”

“You’ll thank her,” she corrected and he chuckled, the sound breathy and strained. “I couldn’t do this on my own.”

“Izayoi…” 

She hummed, letting her finger drop lower, dancing across his abdomen, trailing down low.

“Yes?”

“Let me kiss you.”

“No,” she teased, because she could. _Gods,_ there were so many things she could do. 

“ _Woman._ ”

She felt more than heard him growl, his throat bobbing, and further warmth pooled between her legs. He wasn’t the only one she was forcing to wait, but… this was fun, and she wasn’t ready for it to end. Her wanting would be there when they were ready.

“Are you going to leave me, again?” she asked, letting her hand slip lower, tracing over the indigo stripe that arced over his hip. Were his knees shaking?

“Izayoi.”

“Tell me you’ll stay,” she tempted, tracing the same line again, letting the edge of her nail scrape over his skin. This time she dipped lower on the descent, tempting in towards the silver hairs across the lowest part of his abdomen, threatening to trail down deeper into the dark between them. 

He didn’t say anything, breathing hard, panting against her. She let her hand linger, watched him twitch, let him lean in to her feather-light touches. 

“Just for a week,” she whispered, pulling her hand up and away, and he _whimpered_ –

“A week,” he relented, resolve collapsing completely. He managed to twist his head around and find her ear, tracing his fangs over the sensitive edge of her skin. An electric shock chased from the bite all the way down her spine, the hurt quickly chased away by his tongue. “ _Please_.”

Triumphant and longing all the same as him, she reached up and hooked her other arm around his neck, dragging him down to her as her other hand shot lower, rewarding him happily. His mouth was hot and heavy and his length was even worse, practically straining as she palmed him up against his body.

“Promise me,” she whispered, dragging her teeth against his bottom lip. He moaned into her mouth.

“Promise,” he panted, catching her mouth again, tongue darting between her lips as he tried to draw her into himself. His fangs scraped against her, sparking like fire, and her thumb ran across the head down lower. His hips kicked into her hand, helpless and lost.

“What was that?”

He mumbled something incoherent and she gave him a long, encouraging stroke, but it only spiraled him further into delirium. He wouldn't get what he wanted if he didn't answer her questions.

"Toga." When she pulled away from him, she pulled her hand away as well, leaving him twitching into the empty air between them. He cursed, shoulders sagging and wrists twisting behind his back.

“I promise,” he managed, wanting in a way she’d never heard him before. Speaking seemed difficult, his voice raked over gravel as he leaned down again, stealing a kiss on her neck before she could draw away from him. Izayoi let him, fisting her hand in his hair, relishing in the feeling of his tongue over her fluttering pulse. 

Then suddenly he was gone, her hand pulled down with his hair as he fell to his knees and– _oh_ –

She tipped forward on her toes and scrambled for purchase on his shoulders as he pushed his face between her legs, pressing up, worshiping, tasting, _apologizing_. Crying out softly, she had to lean her entire weight on him, already blinking stars out of her vision with the feeling of his tongue between her folds, his nose prodding against a sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately she was missing his hands, longing for him to hold her up as he always did, supporting her while he turned her bones to water inside her body.

So as much as she hated herself for it, she stepped back, peeling away, and the sound he made almost had her on her knees.

“ _Izayoi._ ”

She would never, ever get tired of him moaning her name.

“I’ll fall,” she managed, sliding her hands into his hair. His chin tilted up as she guided him, presenting her with the glorious vision of his face below, lips shining slick against the candlelight. 

“Then let me go.”

“Do you really want me to?” she wondered, tracing both her thumbs over his markings. His eyelids fluttered shut and he leaned his hand into one of her palms, still shaking slightly beneath her touch. 

When he didn’t answer, she guided him to his feet, embracing him in a way that her arms twined back over his. He wasn’t struggling against the bonds, anymore, but she needed to know, wanted to make sure he wasn’t just posturing, because her husband was nothing if not a prideful man.

“This is hell,” he whispered, breathless, but it wasn’t an answer. It was barely even a complaint.

“Toga,” she nudged, refusing to continue until she knew he was okay. 

He groaned, tilting his hair back and shaking his head in a wordless admission of his desires. Reassured, she slid her arms up his body and hooked them around his neck, pulling him down to her, kissing him again, tasting herself on his lips and not caring, heart fluttering, just loving the control he was relinquishing to her. He was melting, trusting her with everything, and she knew that he would never do this for anyone else.

“C’mon,” she breathed, and then she was dragging him backwards, finding a wall to lean up against, and he understood her meaning in an instant.

In seconds, she was lost, and the world spun out in a galaxy of pleasure.

* * *

In the morning, Izayoi woke groggy and sore to find two strong arms wrapped around her in a steel cage, overly warm as they pinned her against a hard chest. Her body was veiled with silver hair, drawn forward over her chest from the sleeping man behind her, and she smiled, happy with knowing she had bested the strongest daiyokai in all the land. Said daiyokai snored softly behind her, finally freed, his nose nestled in the crook of her neck as he rumbled, refusing to let his little wife feel a second of loneliness when he was near. He'd learned his lesson, it seemed.

Izayoi reached back and placed a hand in his hair, readjusted, and closed her eyes to the early light, finally content.

She really would have to thank Tsukiko.


End file.
